


Hitting the Target

by TheInfamousDoctorF



Category: Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Gay, M/M, Take Your Fandom to Work Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6380791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousDoctorF/pseuds/TheInfamousDoctorF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for the Fanworks challenge where you do an AU of your characters doing a job that you do irl or have done in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitting the Target

Herobrine stumped up to the gigantic building for the fifth time that week. He was cursing himself for forgetting his sunglasses though he knew he’d have to take them off once inside anyway. His glowing eyes were the merest slits against the bright sun and the heat came in waves off the stretch of bare concrete. It might have been pleasant if not for his utter hatred of the seed he and his husband were currently occupying. He’d never seen such a built up place full of humans, and the type of biome was almost a mystery since every inch was covered with structures and what looked like stone block floors.   
He entered the building with a sigh as the AC hit him, almost too cold, and too much of a contrast with the soothing heat outside. It was noisy and he grumbled as he made his way through the office and clocked in. He ignored his tiny locker, choosing to keep everything in his inventory lest it despawn in the miserable excuse for a locked trunk.   
He mumbled a few hellos to coworkers as he gathered his equipment and made his way to what he’d begun referring to as his ‘desk of servitude’.   
He flashed a genuine smile as Steve greeted him, and the two of them brushed hands discreetly; lest someone question the sight of a middle manager kissing an employee. The two touched minds as well and Herobrine asked the question that had become a ritual over the past few days, ‘tell me why we’re doing this again?’  
Steve sighed, forever patient with his lover. ‘Because Doc asked us too, it’s just a hiccup in our finances because someone caught hir penny skimming program and shut it down. They’ll have it back up again in no time. We only need $5 a month to keep the server running; and a week of this will pay it up for almost 14 years irl time. As far as I can tell no one has caught onto the fact that we’re not actually transfers from another store. So we just need to play nice for today and then we can disappear. Things go well; we’ll never have to do this again.’  
‘Where’s Alex?’  
‘She was here this morning, helping unload a truck of sporting goods, pet food and kitty litter.’ Steve replied mentally, ‘in her element really. Doc probably sent her home already since her last shift was an early one.’  
The griefer snorted, ‘Too true.’   
‘Just keep your cool for a few more hours okay? Then we can go home and forget about this.’   
‘I’d rather go home and fuck your brains out…’   
Steve’s face turned pink and Herobrine grinned, happy that he could still surprise his beloved lamb.   
Steve cleared his throat. “I have to go watch the lanes, I’ll get yelled at if it looks like I’m not doing anything. We can do… as you suggested later. You have a guest anyway.”  
Herobrine stepped up to the desk and tried to smile without showing his triangular teeth. He also kept his eyes down to minimize showing their blind whiteness. “Can I help you?”  
“Yeah, I bought this antenna last week and I can’t get it to work with my system but I was really busy and I lost the receipt and then my kid took out the trash and I couldn’t find it-“  
“Is it broken?”  
“Uh, no. But I paid with this.”   
Herobrine took the card with a sigh, running it to find the transaction and then putting the money back before returning the card to its owner. Using the computer he could handle. These systems were simple and slow, but he had downloaded all the information Doc gave him to help him pass as an experienced employee.   
“This swimsuit didn’t fit.”  
“Shoes were too small.”   
Herobrine bit his lip in annoyance; he couldn’t understand why these stupid humans would give currency for something without making sure it would fit them first. Not that the idea of clothes not fitting in the first place wasn’t strange.   
His sensitive nostrils flared at a horrible stench and he realized the source of the stink was staring at him intently from the opposite side of the desk. A sour faced man returning a dress shirt still in its folding paper. “Didn’t work out,” He grumbled, before thrusting out a receipt.   
Herobrine forced down his bile long enough to process the return, giving the man some of the silly paper slips that passed for emeralds on this seed. Once he’d walked away, the god coughed and spit into the trash can. He had to handle the odious shirt long enough to scan and mark it as garbage; and then quickly bag it so the stench of tobacco wouldn’t permeate the small space.   
A girl in a red shirt gave him a carton of eggs and he stared at it for a long moment. Steve came up to check on him. “Just mark it as trash; you know we can’t put them back. Once they get warm here they’re spoiled.”  
Herobrine ground his teeth, “I hate this crazy seed. Food that spoils? Why are there no trunks to keep stuff good? It’s all so wasteful! And why take it from the cold if you know you don’t want it? Now I have to throw it away.”   
“I don’t get it either.” Steve replied glumly, “You know I’m not any more used to being around other humans then you are… besides Alex, of course. But these people make me uncomfortable. They remind me of zombies. They buy stuff they don’t need, or should be able to make with no trouble. It’s like…” Steve’s voice took on a slightly horrified tone, “they don’t even know how to craft.”  
Herobrine shuddered. “That’s not right.” He looked around, “come on, let’s get this over with. I’m going to go check the bath-rooms; you stand watch in case someone comes up.”  
The griefer poked his head into the men’s room, stooping to clear errant toilet paper from the floor and wash his hands before marking the chart. He stood at the door to the ladies room, hesitating and listening for movement. “Is there anyone in the women’s room? Anyone in the women’s room, please answer me.”   
Dead silence. Herobrine took a step inside and was immediately yelled at by an elderly human standing at the sink. He raced back out and stood there with a frown waiting for the lady to finish and come out.   
Finally she did so and he was able to check the ladies as well, finding it stocked but also containing a pile of tags on the floor where someone had stolen the clothing they were supposed to go to. His expression was sour. Griefing was one thing, but petty thievery was just low.   
He made his way back to the desk and flashed the tags at Steve who shook his head sadly.   
“I’m going to go give the food person their break, okay? Use the walkie thing if you need me. In the meantime one of the uppers left a cart of stuff to sort, can you take care of it?”   
“I will do as my lamb commands,” Herobrine said morosely.   
Steve risked giving him a kiss over the desk. “It’s just a few more hours. Okay? Do it for us.”   
The griefer hauled the cart of things behind the desk and reset the modes on the computer for ‘sort’. This he could handle, he clicked the gun again and again, reading numbers and putting things in their area bins. The little machine spat stickers for salvage and markdowns and he married them with their items as he spun in place.   
Another red-shirted man approached him, he was very dark-skinned and Steve had warned him that this one was some sort of authority to be feared and respected. He smiled gamely.   
“Listen, we’ve had a lot of batteries, underwear and expensive razor blades getting stolen lately. If anyone tries to return any of these things without a receipt, or a card to look it up; just tell them no and make a note of the time. Any excuse will do, just be firm and I’ll back you up.”   
Herobrine nodded agreeably, making brief eye contact with the dignified man.   
He paused for a moment before walking away. “I’m really surprised you can see with those cataracts. Steve mentioned you two were hurting for money. Man, this country is going to shit when someone with your kind of disability has to work a normal minimum wage job just to keep from getting evicted.”   
The griefer just shrugged sadly, not wanting to provide any contradictions for whatever lies Steve had told to allay suspicion. “Yeah, it sucks. But I’ll keep an eye out for those returns, sir.”  
“Good man.”   
The next round of guests blurred in his mind as he processed a bevy of unwanted furnishings and ill-fitting clothes. A balding man provided a few moments of evil glee as the griefer curtly informed him that it was summer and that he would not be getting a return for the Craftmas lights he was trying to bring back. Nor did it matter that they were still in the box.   
An extreme couponer tested his patience briefly by trying to confuse him into giving her an extra gift card because of her inability to add and subtract properly. But she was no match for a being born of ones and zeros and left unsatisfied.   
Though his feeling of triumph was soon crushed; his coworkers brought him a ham-hock and a bottle of milk that someone had left at the register. He said a small prayer for the pig before putting it sullenly in the trash.   
Steve came to relieve him for his lunch and he hustled back to the office before anyone could collar him with questions. The loud box he’d been informed was a tele-vision, blared obnoxiously in the break room. But he was unable to turn it off because of several others sitting quietly watching it as if hypnotized. He snuck into the conference room and pulled out a bowl of soup from his inventory. Turning up his glitch to warm it in his hands rather then fight with the hateful micro-waver cube that seemed only to heat the container but nothing inside. He finished his food and let his head clunk softly against the table. Herobrine felt naked without his armor, he hated this red shirt and tan pants, and the stupid squeaky box that he was forced to carry at his hip. None of this made any sense to him.   
The door squeaked softly open and closed behind him, and warm hands fell like a cloak on his shoulders. Herobrine flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of his husband without turning. Steve kissed his hair, “come on…” he whispered. “You have to come back out. I know you don’t want too, I’m bored shitless myself. But we’re almost done. Do the boxes, I’ll begin closing the registers, and we’ll start cleaning up for the night.”  
Herobrine turned his head enough to lick Steve’s hand with his long forked tongue. Steve froze as the appendage curled wetly around his fingers. He gave the tiniest groan of torment; imagining it in other places. The slimy tendril withdrew and Herobrine whispered thickly; “something to look forward too when we’re home again.”  
The miner leaned heavily against the chair, hiding the straining member in his pants against it. “Dammit… I have to calm down. I can’t go out there with a boner in these pants. Just go, I’ll be right behind you.”  
Herobrine walked to the door and whispers before closing it, “that can be arranged too…”   
“Arrgh.”  
Herobrine trotted back to the desk with a little skip in his step, thinking about doing terrible things to make his mate cry for mercy always cheered him up. The glee soon turned to concern when he saw what was waiting for him though. The woman was wearing what even he recognized as a mismatched outfit, her hair was untamed and she looked impatient and angry. She bore a translucent white bag filled with many tiny colorful items.   
“Can I… help you?”   
“I sure as hell hope so slowpoke. I’ve been waiting here for like ten minutes. I need to return these. None of them fit.” She emptied the sack and a pile of colorful underwear tumbled out.   
“Do you have a receipt?”   
“No. And I paid cash. Here’s my ID.”   
The griefer gave her an ugly smile. “I won’t be needing that miss. I can’t return these. Personal undergarments need a receipt to be returned.”  
“But I did this last week without the paperwork!”  
‘And that’s why I can’t do it, you dirty thief’ Herobrine thought to himself.   
“I’m gonna complain to your manager!”   
The god gave her a cold look, his best poker face. He glanced around for any other possible witnesses without moving his head and then let the light in his blank eyes flare for a moment.  
The woman gave him a horrified expression and staggered backwards.   
“Do you still want to talk to my boss, miss?”   
The human fled without answering and he sighed in relief. ‘Go ahead,’ he thought, ‘I’ll be long gone from this crazy place before anyone comes to complain at me…’   
Steve watched the woman quick scurry out of the store and shot Herobrine a suspicious stare. The griefer merely waved innocently and walked behind the partition to fetch his own little basket of abandons. He let his mind go blank as he checked the bath-rooms again and put the small items back in their proper bins. Sorting things was too easy. It was all numbers, and with the grid stored in his digital brain it was easy to slide down the rows and arrange everything in its proper place. He found himself called back to the desk a few times, but his hearts weren’t in it. Processing broken appliances, and passing out money in exchange for things the humans had bought in haste and now were returning in leisure. He was wiping a small spill from the counter when a pair of eyes met his from the lower edge of it.   
His own flared without meaning too and the small human’s own widened in surprise. The child was wearing a checkered green hoodie and as she stepped back he saw the face of a creeper emblazoned on the front. He smiled warmly, a little griefer in training.   
“I know who you are. You’re HIM aren’t you? Why are you here? Are you gonna grief the store?”   
“Nope. Kiddo, I can’t do that.” He whispered conspiratorially. “Steve would get mad at me.” He surreptitiously pointed a chunky finger at his nearly identical counterpart standing proudly at the head of the lanes.   
“Ooooh,” The little girl cooed, “Since when does Hero-brine take orders from a Steve?”  
The griefer gave her the full white of his smile, “since I put a ring on it kiddo. It gets boring griefing by yourself. So… can I do something for you?”  
“Call my mom please. Her name is Jennifer.”   
“Got it,” Herobrine cleared his throat noisily before fairly shouting into the intercom for Jennifer in the store to come collect her child at the service desk. The girl laughed at his obviously obnoxious volume and he joined her in giggling. He flopped on the desk and let his hands dangle off the edge. “Are the creepers your favorite kiddo?”   
“Holly! There you are!”   
“Herobrine’s my favorite, then creepers, sir.” The child trilled merrily before running off to rejoin her mom.   
The griefer allowed himself a warm, genuine smile as the mother waved at him appreciatively and the little girl gave a wink as they went back into the store. Steve sauntered up to the desk and Herobrine stood up quickly to mock attention.   
‘I saw that.’ He chided mentally. ‘You’re gonna blow our cover.’  
‘I can’t disappoint a fan. Besides, it’s nice to know that not everyone hates my guts.’  
‘Just do your job okay?’ Steve pleaded ‘It’s time to take the trash out.’   
“Okay. I’ll do it. But only because it’s you asking.”   
Herobrine unfolded a few boxes into comfortable cubes and taped them before making his lists of broken things and packing them neatly inside. Steve came back briefly and scribbled a mark on the paper before leaving him a pallet for the items to be rolled to the storeroom.   
He grunted with theatrical effort as he moved a busted dresser onto the flat, not wanted anyone to notice his unnatural strength. He bagged the spoiled food with a sad sigh and added it to the pile. Tiny bags of broken bottles of makeup, cleaning products, out of date medicine, everything neatly arranged. A stack of cards and magazines for the vendors to collect, and some dry and canned food with damaged packages to donate made the mountain complete. He rolled the cart down the wide aisles; pretending he was surrounded by enderman and stubbornly avoiding the sometimes curious gazes of the humans. He slipped into the back with a sigh. It was darker here and it calmed him somewhat, it was also warmer as the air flowed more freely around the cracks of the wide loading doors. He opened the compactor door and held his nose long enough to throw the garbage in. It shut with a loud slam, and he turned away, relieved to be finished with it for the last time. Quietly he sorted the boxes onto their pallets and bins, tucking away the bags and bits for others to remove later. He pressed back against the wall for a moment, his anxiety rising at the thought of making the long walk back to the front. So Herobrine chose to walk down the narrow corridor between the high shelves instead and shut himself into the employee bathroom for a moment to calm down. He had no need for the odd-looking toilet it contained, but he leaned on the sink and splashed a bit of water into his mouth and face. The griefer caught sight of himself in the mirror and shivered. He hated the high resolution of this seed; he’d spent the first few hours here in an almost catatonic state panicking over the level of detail he was being asked to cope with. He had too much of everything, blood, skin, hair, folds in his clothing; it was frightening to say the least. But it was a little easier to ignore if he refrained from looking at himself or his reflection. If he stayed out of the shadows and kept his glitch turned way down, and kept them slitted; people generally didn’t notice his eyes. He’d also had to restrain himself from opening his mouth wide enough for anyone to note his triangular teeth since his ability to transform seemed to be greatly restricted here as well.   
The sudden sound over the intercom was music to his ears, ten minutes to close. Thank the Gods. Herobrine stalked back up to the front, sneaking around the racks of clothes to avoid questions since he didn’t know his way around enough to answer them. Steve was waiting for him, wheeling the cash bin along like a minecart in front of him.   
“Everything is closed except those last three lanes. Go and help check okay? It’ll help us get the last few people out of here so we can leave.”   
Herobrine deflated, he really hated being on register. He didn’t understand how he could walk half a continent and barely be hungry; but standing in one place made his feet and knees miserably sore. He traipsed down the lanes and gave a stilted greeting to the other two checkers already there.   
He gave the little spiel he’d memorized and mechanically checked out whatever was put before him. Running the items at breakneck speed and swinging the bags onto the counter with a graceful flick of his wrist. He gave the receipts with a tight snap that made the long slips of paper stick out like straight, and wished everyone a good night, and to; silently, get the Nether out of his face.  
Just as the clock was hitting one minute till, the worst possible guest entered his lane. It was all he could do to not let loose a tormented moan. It was a small woman with a pinched face and a fist full of paper slips. She had four of everything in her cart and a mass of clothing. She methodically divided the mess into four different orders, and piled coupons on each clump. Herobrine bit his lip to stifle an irritated whine.   
With a resigned sigh he cut into the mass, stopping periodically to scan gift cards and watch in frustration as the woman struggled with the credit card machine and complained about how slow it was reading her chip, and why couldn’t she just swipe it anyway?   
By the time he reached the clothes it was nearly ten after and he forced himself not to bite the human who was staring at him with irritation as he searched for a tag on each item to scan.   
“Can you hurry up please? I have places to be.”   
Steve felt the coming eruption and wheeled the squeaky cart quickly towards the source of the red hot fury he was feeling. He put a warning hand on his husbands back and felt the shoulders underneath his fingers unknot at his touch.   
‘I want to bite her.’  
‘I know. But it’s the last one. And then we can go. Please, just smile and get it done with, for me.’   
“Your employee is very slow at his job,” The woman said airily.   
Steve wracked his brain for a word he’d heard Doc use earlier and decided to use it to defend his mate.   
“Madam my HUSBAND is suffering from glaucoma and is in a lot of pain from his eyes. Please be patient with him.”   
The woman drew in a huff of air and he saw the panic cross her face as she looked from one to the other. Herobrine lifted his chin and looked slightly past her with his blankest white gaze.   
“Oh! I’m oh, I’ll just… here,” she ran her card and avoided the eyes of the two men as it slowly processed. She gathered her things and hurried out of the store. Two pair looked up to find the other two clerks staring at them in confusion and a little bit of awe.   
“You two are free to go.” Steve said firmly. “That was the last guest.”   
It was only after they’d departed that he realized why they’d been staring. The overhead lights had dimmed automatically at the close and Herobrine’s glowing eyes were clearly visible in the shadow of his messy brown hair.   
The griefer turned to his mate with a sad look. “Can we please go now?”   
“Let me put the money away and we can go.”   
Herobrine paced back and forth in the break-room, he’d silenced the noisy box with the press of a button and was now desperately awaiting the call that would set him free as a bird into the moonlit night outside. Steve poked his head in. “The manager is writing their email, and Doc is waiting for us outside.” And then mentally ‘get your stuff if you have any, we’re not coming back.’   
Herobrine sent out a word of thanks to any god who’d listen to him and shut himself into a small room to re-equip his normal clothes. He sighed, so happy in his blue on blue attire. He stuffed the uniform into the dumb little locker and spun the dial to close it.   
Steve blocked the eyes of the manager with his own body as they were let out, lest he see the glow in the darkness from his husband’s eyes. Doc was waiting for them on the bench outside.   
“Are you ready to go?” They asked.   
“I’ve been ready to go since the moment I set foot on this horrible crazy seed’ Herobrine bitched. “Take us home please.”  
Steve nodded his readiness as well. “Human beings are weird. I think I like sharing space with brines better.”   
[HerobrineTLOT / DoctorF / (Father)Steve- Teleported away]


End file.
